


The Fourth Time

by Linane



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BOFA Fix-It, Fili and Kili survive, Fili's impression of Bard, Fíli-centric, Graphic injuries, M/M, Major character death mentioned - Thorin, established Fili/Kili, h/c, rebuilding kingdoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/pseuds/Linane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from Fili's POV, this work deals with the events of DOS and BOFA, although it farts in the general direction of both the films and canon. We don't need all of that fanfiction, Precious, we have our own canon. </p><p>Established Fili/Kili focussing on Fili's perception of Bard of the Laketown and their paraller journeys and character development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fourth Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt response for the Summer Fandom Raffle Exchange.
> 
> The Fili/Kili relationship in this isn't perhaps as central as I would have liked, but I still felt this story needed to be told.

The first time Fili met Bard the Bowman he was being hunted and his hands were covered in his brother’s blood. 

The arrow merely snapped when Kili fell into the barrel barely held in place against the current. But the shaft was still firmly embedded within his flesh and needed to be removed. It couldn’t be done on the banks of the river; not with an orc pack close on their tail and the damned elves not far behind. So instead Fili bound it tightly around the protrusion as best as he could and prayed to whatever gods were listening for a miracle.

The Illuvatar clearly must have been paying attention, although Fili was ready to question their judgement when their saviour appeared to be a tall, gangly man, pointing an arrow at Kili’s chest (he considered getting in front of him, but at that range it would have skewered them both). The man _did_ , however own a barge and that was relevant to Fili’s interests, enough so in fact, that any further judgement was quickly put off until there was something to base his opinion on.

He didn’t however miss the way the man’s eyes took in their bedraggled company and let his gaze pause on Kili’s leg before responding to Balin’s plea. 

Kili saw it too; straightened and glared for good measure in a true Durin fashion and Fili would feel proud if he wasn’t so worried.

Instead, he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and said, “it’s not worth it. He’s already made his decision. He’s merely trying to satisfy his curiosity now.”

Kili held his position for a moment longer, before slouching against Fili’s shoulder once again, grunting quietly, and letting the elder take some of his weight.

“He’ll help us,” Kili whispered back, hoarse, and Fili _felt_ his pain. It wasn’t a question, but a statement based on Fili’s own reaction. He wouldn’t let the barge sail away without the Company on board. 

Not when Kili’s life was at stake.

Fili nodded, lips against Kili’s wet hair and it didn’t feel right to be the taller one. “You need to sit down and rest,” he murmured instead, “and I need to get that arrow out.”

Oin was of the same opinion, perhaps an hour later when Fili had his fingers wrapped around the orcish metal in Kili’s leg and was mentally steeling himself for having to push it through the rest of the way.

Their friends had given them space and Thorin and Oin helped by offering to hold Kili down.

He knew what had to be done. He knew Kili wouldn’t let anybody else do it. He knew how to do it, and yet…

What he certainly wasn’t expecting was for Bard (Master Baggins had asked about his name and Fili had listened) to materialise by their side and start twisting a strip of fabric around Kili’s leg just above the wound, tightening it in place with a piece of floatsom.

Thorin growled, but the bargeman ignored him. 

“It will slow the blood flow, so you will have more time to bind it again,” he explained, before moving his gaze to Kili. “The sound carries over water surface, sometimes for miles. They may not hear us in town, but they _will_ hear us on the shores. Be as quiet as you can, master dwarf, or we are all lost.”

Kili nodded, grim determination written on his face, as he rolled his shoulders to get more comfortable.

They didn’t need to be counted down. Their eyes met and Fili pushed, creating a second wound, but allowing the shaft to pass through smoothly.

Kili’s agonised grunt burnt itself like a brand in Fili’s mind and he forced himself to focus on the bargeman instead, as an easy alternative to the thoughts that wanted to push to the forefront of his mind.

The man was a mystery and he held their lives in the palm of his hand right now, but perhaps the gods knew what they were doing after all.

\---

The second time wasn’t a meeting at all, but it was the first time Fili and Bard have exchanged words.

“You’re shivering,” the man said so matter-of-factly that Fili didn’t even feel the need to bristle against this stranger’s pity, as a threadbare blanket folded in half was placed around his shoulders.

It was hard to deny the facts and Fili was enough of a dwarf to admit them: he was soaking wet, exhausted, starved to the point of fainting and worried sick about the infection that seemed to take root in Kili’s wound.

Glossy brown eyes looked at him upside down from where Kili was having his hair dried by Fili’s skilful hands.

“Sit,” he ordered, opening his own blanket invitingly.

Fili sighed, took the blanket off his shoulders and added it to Kili’s, but sat, obediently, thigh to thigh, within Kili’s outstretched arm, allowing his brother to wrap both blankets around the two of them.

“Thank you,” he offered to the man who was currently hovering a few feet away by the stove of their tiny kitchen.

“You need to eat.” Bard said, neither acknowledging nor disputing Fili’s gratitude. Instead he thrust two plain wooden bowls in their hands and turned back to dish out more to others.

It took a little bit more scooting up closer to make sure the blankets didn’t slide off their shoulders as they ate, but Kili was radiating heat in waves and soon Fili had enough feeling in his fingers that he could hold up the spoon.

Porridge, he decided, shovelling it into his mouth; he would eat boiled worms if someone wanted to feed him some. Next to him Kili made an approving noise and Fili noted that although the food was very simple, it was warm and creamy and there were little bits of nut in his portion.

He took another look at their host and their surroundings, this time taking them in as he chewed thoughtfully.

There was perhaps, ah, a conflict of interests between the bargeman and the dwarves, but it seemed that the man was inherently good. _A rare breed indeed these days_ , Balin’s voice sounded in his head, but his teacher had nothing to contribute, when Fili’s rational side observed that they had to be eating into the man’s supplies for the winter. Practical, he thought, taking in various hooks and shelves and very few ornaments.

Granted, the black arrow of dwarven make seemed a bit out of place, doubling up as a drying rack for the herbs, but Fili wasn’t going to ask about it, instead eyeing their host with renewed interest, trying to bring to the forefront of his mind the stories of Dale and how it failed in its role as the first line of defence for Erebor.

It was fortunate then that within moments Balin was telling the very same story that Fili was trying to recall.

“Lean back,” Kili demanded when their food was finished and the bowls removed.

Fili arched an eyebrow, pulled out of his musings. “So you can use me as a pillow?”

“There are pillows behind you, but you’re more comfy.”

“Kili, you need a proper bed, not a wooden bench on which you’re going to try and curl up,” he protested.

“Look at them. There clearly isn’t a spare one,” Kili hissed in his ear, already tugging at Fili’s limbs to rearrange him as he wanted. “And I’m not taking one of the children’s ones, before you even suggest it,” 

“Kili –“

“When was the last time you slept, Fili?”

Fili couldn’t remember. Perhaps at Beron’s? Unless you counted the time he spent unconscious and hanging upside down with the spider venom coursing in his veins. He also vaguely remembered brief periods of fitful dreams in the elven dungeons, interspersed by the guards walking by, making him jerk awake.

“You need this.” Kili added quietly, tucking his head into the crook of Fili’s shoulder and Fili understood that his brother meant so much more than just the sleep itself.

He let himself sink lower and watched Kili do the same, giving quiet huffs of pain as he stretched out more comfortably, until he was able to use Fili’s lap as a pillow. Fili’s fingers found their way into his hair and he started brushing it away from his face, the gesture familiar and deeply comforting. He felt like he could indeed drift off in this unfamiliar house full of secrets and belonging to a stranger.

The blankets were enough to cover their upper bodies but not their legs and Fili startled somewhat when one of the girls brought them another blanket, spreading it over Kili’s form.

“Thank you,” he said again, because what else could he say, tucking the edges tightly around Kili’s shoulders.

“You care about him deeply,” the girl remarked, taking in the soothing motion of his hand, before passing him a cup of tea.

He took it and revelled in the warmth spreading out from his stomach as the hot drink slid down his throat. 

“He’s my brother,” he hesitated, but thought that under the circumstances honesty was the only currency they had left that still held any value. “And the light of my life.”

The girl smiled at him, but he didn’t think she understood. Certainly didn’t seem to understand how much Fili would loathe to remain in this world if Kili was to leave it, how terrified his heart was right then and how the little comforts they had offered the dwarves were making him feel like he was acquiring a debt that would last a lifetime. 

Granted, the collection of junk the bowman offered them as weapons was hardly satisfactory, but then again, Fili knew since they had struck the deal that they couldn’t be anything fancy. Not with the way the man, or his house, looked. So he didn’t say anything, putting the mangled iron away, thinking instead about how much he would give for a working forge and some steel of decent quality.

“He’s running a fever.” It seemed that Bard did understand his words, materialising instead by their side in that quiet way of his. Fili tensed, waiting for judgement and disdain, so easily dished out among men, but none came. Instead their host said, “we’ll need to drive it down if he is to sleep through the night peacefully and wake up stronger tomorrow. You have a healer in your midst, do you not? He can select the herbs that will be right.”

It was at that moment that Fili understood the single most important thing about Bard – the man played by his own rules. He had a strict moral code, but he didn’t seem to try and impose it on anyone else. That code was more important to him than the circumstances of any predicament he found himself in and it defined what he judged himself against.

He thought they weren’t that much different - the man and him. Both drawing their own conclusions and standing by them. Both observant, but sharing little of what they understood. Able to see past what others wanted them to see, and act according to what seemed right, regardless of the consequences.

Here was a man that could be reasoned with. Perhaps even trusted, if he’d proven himself. 

Dwarves had little sympathy and patience for men and they had been hurt by their actions often enough that they anticipated scorn and betrayal when they met one. But they were not so blind not to notice and appreciate qualities like courage, loyalty and intelligence.

Which was why, when a day later Fili and his delirious by that point brother were turned away like filthy beggars from a man that _did_ fit every stereotype Fili had ever heard, he didn’t hesitate when he ordered their little group to return to Bard’s house. He knew that if there was one person in this cursed town that would not stand by idly and watch them die in the streets, it was Bard.

Which was also why, when the orcs came, and then the dragon, Fili did whatever he had to do to save the man’s children. The debt was firmly in place now and Fili would repay it, a life for a life if need be.

\---

The third time Fili met Bard, he was in so much agony that he barely recognised the man. 

Protecting Thorin with shield and body turned out to be both a painful and pointless business, but it was also one of the things that Fili couldn’t not do. Even when his sword was broken and his shield fell apart under the blows, even when there was nothing left to protect Thorin with from the wrath of the pale orc but himself, Fili didn’t hesitate.

 _A life for a life_ , he thought again, distantly, when the metal drove through his body and pain exploded in its wake. The three way fight with Azog was about to become two-way and for a moment he worried if Kili would be able to catch his rhythm with Thorin, something Fili himself struggled with, because although the brothers were inseparable in the training ring, Thorin rarely visited. 

Until he saw Kili take his place a moment later in front of their king, their uncle, their mentor.

Watching that had hurt infinitely more than his own wounds and he thought he was going to go insane before he died with the sheer regret of watching the one life he had spent all his years protecting be extinguished in a disgusting splatter of blood and broken bone.

In the end they failed Thorin, but they _didn’t_ fail each other.

No-one was more surprised when he woke up next to Kili, than Fili himself.

“Is he going to live?” The words slowly filtered into his consciousness, dispelling the shock of a memory that he hadn’t even started trying to deal with.

“With Mahal’s blessing,” came a measured response from Balin, “dwarves are hardy people and the princes were always strong.”

“Then he will be king?” It was more a statement than a question and it cut through Fili despite the softness of the tone in which it was uttered.

“This is not the time, nor place for such considerations“ Balin hissed and Fili knew the old dwarf’s temper.

“I meant no disrespect –“

_He will be king._

He wasn’t ready.

He couldn’t.

He wasn’t strong enough.

Didn’t they just see that he had failed them all?

Next to him Kili made a quiet noise of distress or pain, Fili didn’t know which. Their only choices in those days were between wakefulness, drowning in pain, and oblivion full of nightmares that crushed their souls. But in all this they were, still, together.

Fili pushed his fear deep down inside himself and did his duty by his people.

“Treasure –“ he croaked, forcing his eyes to focus. He wants – “you _need_ … your share…”

“Do not concern yourself with gold, dwarf,” came a steady response, “it holds no value to anyone right now. There is no one left to trade with and you can hardly eat it. It would only drive people mad.”

Fili managed a grunt of acknowledgement. “What –“ _will you do_ , he wanted to ask, but his voice failed him.

“It rained last night. The fires will be all put out by now. I will send my men to search the ruins and bring every last scrap of food they can find. Winter is coming and what little we have must be preserved and stored securely.”

“That seems wise,” Balin approved and Fili could hear his mentor wonder how they could procure food for themselves.

“I will send some to you,” Bard seemed to understand too, “so we may all survive together. It won’t be much though, with most of the stores destroyed. And then there is fish,” traces of humour entered his voice, “there is always more fish to be had.”

“And what of the payment for it?”

“You know the current rates for wheat, dried meat and fish?”

“Naturally, but –“

“Then you will catalogue everything you receive, calculate it at its usual cost and add it to our share of the treasure. I trust you will act honourably in this.”

“You have my word.”

“If it pleases your king?” Bard turned to Fili, and it felt like a test, like the ultimatum he had given Thorin back when the three armies faced each other off.

“Do it.” The decision was easy for him, but there was still a question of – “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I would rather negotiate with a king that was sane and strong and reasonable. Because I have seen what happens when there isn’t one. You have been watching me but I have been watching you too and you are what your people need right now. And for that reason I would like to see you live, master dwarf.”

“And the gold?” Balin this time, and perhaps he should have sounded more outraged by this insult to Thorin’s memory, but he didn’t.

“We will speak of it in the spring, when he is stronger and we have both had the time to think how to organise it and what to do with it. Until then, the only value both our people have is within our own hands and their ability to rebuild.”

“Fili?” 

He nodded his consent and let his eyes slide closed, slowly, heavily sinking into unconsciousness.

\---

“The architects won’t be here for at least another three months.”

The fourth time Fili met Bard, they were both wearing crowns.

“Is there no one in your group that could be of assistance?” Bard asked, nodding his thanks to Sigrid who brought them tea. They were in Dale, still in ruins, but teaming with life, sitting at a sturdy dwarven table brought from the mountain for this very occasion and set up in the halls ringing with wind.

It was good that they could be seen talking by everyone, although people were held at bay by Fili’s personal guard and Bard’s word.

Mahal’s mercy, but it was cold.

“There are two or three, but they are not your master designers, they merely have practical knowledge of such things. But their time is taken up in the mountain.”

“Master designers are of no use to me. We have buildings here that could collapse at any minute. In some, we have people who have chosen them as their residence. I need to know which ones will collapse and which ones are safe to inhabit. I am no master mason your grace, and we had none in Laketown.”

Fili nodded slowly, his mind reorganising the schedules of Gloin, Bombur and perhaps Bofur. “Three of my companions will be at your disposal two days a week. Prepare a list of which buildings you want inspected first.”

“Thank you,” Bard relaxed, before picking up, “the bartering system seems to work well.”

Fili gave him a small smile. “Yes, and I believe many lives were saved by it. We need food, you need furniture, cooking wares and blankets, of which the mountain is full. It’s good to see some of those goods in use again.”

“Although there are some sizing issues,” announced a new, cheerful voice and Fili watched his brother approach with blankets from their cart, wrapping one of them around his shoulders and passing another to the king of Dale. “I’ve just seen some of your children organise a perfect tea parlour with the chairs we brought, in which none of the adults would fit.” He beamed at them and Fili couldn’t help but return an affectionate smile.

The blanket perhaps took away something from his kingly appearance, but meant that he was warm so he didn’t feel like complaining. Kili perched himself in his own chair, tucking himself in meticulously until only his hands were sticking out through a gap, holding his own mug of tea.

“I think there are issues on both sides though,” he murmured. “When this is over, I swear I will never eat another fish in my life.”

Bard groaned. “You and me both, my friend.”

Fili took a sip of his own drink to hide his smile in it.

Yes, he supposed they were friends. They thought alike, they acted alike and by sheer necessity, they had learned to trust each other. There was perhaps an alliance to be made here and enough good will that it might last.

“I hear Sigrid had organised your food delivery system?” He changed the topic, wondering vaguely what the future held.

“She did indeed.” It was now Bard’s turn to smile fondly at the mention of his own loved ones.

“She will make a fine queen one day,” he bit into one of the scones offered on the table and thought that his mother would like this resourceful, practical girl. As far as Fili was concerned, he was happy to do business with a woman who was able to whip up delicious little treats like this, with so little at hand, any time.

“She will. Although I fear she will feel out of place in the grand halls and talking to the mighty lords in the future.”

“Well, she’s already done plenty of that in her young life,” Kili pointed out, looking between the three of them and reaching for a scone of his own. “And the gods know, I am a handful of a lord to handle, especially when injured.”

Bard laughed openly and Fili grinned at his brother.

“If you are concerned, Balin could give her lessons. In diplomacy and the great dynasties, politics, history and all those fascinating topics. She would feel more prepared.”

“Why not all of them?” Kili interjected. “He could come here once a week, set up a school for the children, teach them at least the basics. Soon you could have architects of your own. And we all know how much Balin loves to share a good story…”

All three heads turned to Balin, who was so far sitting quietly, meticulously recording their meeting. The old dwarf somehow managed to look both panicked and touched at once.

“You would allow me this, my king?”

Fili smiled openly this time. It was such a typical thing for Kili to blurt out something that had come to him on instinct, and get it exactly right. 

Or horribly wrong.

Yet another reason why Fili loved him so much.

“If King Bard allows it. And if he can find you suitable premises.”

“We have little to pay you with, but we will provide you with hot meal whilst you’re here and some snacks, if you were to provide us with this service.”

Balin nodded, eyes perhaps a bit moist, and leaned back down to scribble something on the parchment.

Fili leaned back, felt Kili’s hand squeezing his own under the table and thought, for the first time, that they could do this. They could create a future for their people and watch them grow prosperous together once more.


End file.
